


Rice and Umeboshi

by BionicOtaku



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Fighting, Gen, Implied BokuAkaKuroKen, MSBY, Non-Sexual Spanking, Post Timeskip, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Spanking, but is it maybe going to be more?, lots of shit about japanese houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BionicOtaku/pseuds/BionicOtaku
Summary: Atsumu gets into a fight and knows his old senpai will have some thoughts on the matter. Why can't he just grow up?
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	Rice and Umeboshi

**Author's Note:**

> Hellloooooooo! Okay so this is not proof read and it took some turns i was not expecting but I hope people enjoy it anyway! 
> 
> for context Doyamacho is the gay district in Osaka. 
> 
> Content warning! This work does include none sexual spanking as a punishment.

_ “Tsumu Tsumu, please take good care of me!”  _

Atsumu knew Bokuto had meant on the court, knew he had been talking about sets, but it made no difference as the words ran through his head, his hand clenching into a fist and flying towards the face of the unknown stranger just within arms reach. It had been a long time since he had hit someone with any amount of vigor, and damn, he should call ‘samu and apologize again for all the fights they used to get into cus this shit fucking  _ hurt _ and he doubted the other guy felt any better. 

This was supposed to be a fun night in Doyamacho, and up until just five minutes ago it had been just that, Atsumu’s biggest concern being Shouyo, thinking that someone would try something inappropriate with his naive  _ looking _ wing spiker. He hadn’t even considered being on the look out for Bokkun. 

There shouldn’t have been a reason to. Bokuto was tall and jacked, and the likelihood of anyone trying to fuck with him had seemed so low. He shouldn’t have had to worry about a guy coming up behind them at the long back lit bar, putting himself on the other side of Bokuto from where Atsumu stood. The line the stranger gives isn’t exactly rude, but it is sleazy. Atsumu wasn’t old fashioned by any means, but it was hardly a polite way to start up a conversation. 

His friend had seemed to have the situation under control though, cheerfully explaining to the stranger (that Atsumu would now only refer to as “that fucking prick’) that he was already very happily taken. That would have been good enough, but his ace never missed a chance to brag, whipping out his phone to show a stranger at a bar a picture of his boyfriend (Atsumu wasn’t sure which one though) as though he would have literally any interest in that at all after being rejected. 

“Oh so you like stupid pretty boys.” ‘That fucking prick’ snarled. (pretty boy. So it must have been a picture of Akaashi-san.)

“He isn’t stupid! He is the smartest person I know!” Bokuto protested. Why he felt the need to make this defense to a moody stranger was beyond Atsumu’s comprehension, but he didn’t often try to logic out Bokuto’s way of thinking. He was about to pull Bokuto away from the bar so they could join Shouyo on the dance floor or something, anything to get them out of this awkward exchange when ‘that fucking prick’ started up again.

“You must be the stupid one then.” He said, leaning far closer into Bokuto’s personal bubble and sneering. “Guess I won’t take your protests too seriously.” 

The instant before the punch was like lightning and Atsumu hadn’t even had a chance to think when he had pushed the guy back, but once he did he wasn’t about to stop there. Fortunately ‘that fucking prick’s’ muscles seemed to be all for show as he stumbled back and hit the floor. 

Atsumu looked back at his friend to see watery eyes and a shocked look. Fuck, Atsumu couldn’t deal with that and now people where staring at them and where the fuck was Shouyo? 

“Come on, Bokkun. We gotta get goin’” Atsumu started, panting slightly from the adrenaline that came with punching someone, especially someone that wasn’t his brother. 

_ Please take good care of me. Please take good care of me.  _

His mind was racing as he grabbed Bokuto’s wrist and started pulling him away, but his heavy friend wouldn’t budge even as the man was getting up from the ground. “Tsum tsum, why’d you do that. We can’t just leave him there.”

Curse his kindness. Bokuto was going to get him killed, or more likely…

Yup, there it was. A punch he had no way of dodging coming up to hit him squarely on the cheek. That was enough to kick Bokuto into high gear, their hand position changing in an instant so Atsumu was the one being dragged away, losing ‘that fucking prick’ in the crowd easily and somehow finding a rather pink in the face Shouyo on their way out into the evening air. 

The brisk fall wind hit Atsumu as hard as the punch had as reality came crashing in on him. He had just punched someone in a bar over half assed sexual comment and the childish insult of ‘stupid’, his loyalties really did run way too deep. 

“Woah, Atsumu-san are you okay?” A teetering Shouyo asked as he lazily gripped Bokuto’s arm for support. Hopefully he was mostly just feeling the effects of his enthusiastic dancing and was only moderately drunk, though that seemed unlikely. 

“‘M fine.” he panted, hand coming up to press tenderly at his skin. He really was, they had gotten out of that situation moderately unscathed and it was a gay bar so the likelihood of anyone calling the cops was basically none. He would just have a shiner for a couple days, it was no big deal-

Suddenly the three drinks he had had felt like forty as his stomach revolted against a disturbing realization. He had made plans to visit Kita tomorrow. 

His life was over, he wouldn’t even have an afterlife. Kita would whoop him so bad his soul would fly out of his body and haunt the woods behind Kita farms like in one of Nana’s ghost stories. The dread was settling in heavily as he frantically tried to think of what lie he could tell that wouldn’t get his ass in even more trouble when huge strong arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tightly in a warm hug. 

“Thanks for defending me Tsumu Tsumu.” Bokuto said as he pulled away, his broad smile glistening in the night lights. “You always take such good care of me.” 

All Atsumu’s previous concerns flew out the window. Consequences be damned, it was all worth it. 

* * *

  
  
  


*From: Bokkun 💪🤩 11:58am* 

Akaashi is mad at me :( 

*From: Bokkun 💪🤩 11:59am*

He said I shouldn’t have shown that guy his photo and I should have stopped talking to him cus I was “Escalating the situation.”

*From: Bokkun 💪🤩 12:01pm*

I’m supposed to apologize to you even though it wasn’t even that bad and I tried to tell him you were the one being naughty😣

*From: Bokkun 💪🤩12:01pm*

Anyway I’m sorry tsumutsumu🥺💖

Atsumu scrolled through the spam of messages that could have easily been sent as one text and sighed through his teeth, unhooking his seat belt resting his elbow on the door. Bokuto didn’t have to apologize. It was his own dumb ass that had decided to play knight in shining armor, Bokuto had just been friendly. And bad at reading the room, but it wasn’t Atsumu’s responsibility to scold him, especially since it seemed like Akaashi-san had already done that pretty thoroughly.

He had to respond though otherwise Bokuto would probably cry so he sent a quick ‘I forgive you, dummy.’ and silenced his phone before clicking the screen off. He wouldn’t be needing it for the next several hours, not in the Kita household anyway. 

Flipping down the mirror made his heart sink. His cheek bone was looking… not great, to say the least. He had tried to use a color corrector and concealer, but it still looked bluish and there was nothing to be done about the swelling. He hadn’t thought too much about it on the drive over, but now with the immediate prospect of being face to face with his senpai the sick feeling from the night before came back. 

There was a strong impulse to just buckle his seatbelt and get back on the highway, tell Kita he was sick or something, but the chance passed him by as the door to the house slid open and a white head of hair poked out, obviously wondering why he wasn’t exiting the car. There was no use now. 

Kita watched from the door to see that he was leaving the car before disappearing again and Atsumu wouldn’t dare not follow. He slipped his shoes off and called out, the response coming from the kitchen which he followed, stopping to clasp his hands and bow at the shrine as he passed. 

“I just started the rice cooker so it will be about forty minutes till lunch.” Kita started without preamble. “Do you want to-” 

His senpai stopped mid sentence as he turned away from the counter to see Atsumu, his blank expression morphing into one of displeasure. Atsumu’s heart is in his gut and it takes everything he has in him to not cower. His attempts at hiding the results of last night must have been even worse than he thought. 

Kita doesn’t say anything, simply leaving Atsumu to stand awkwardly while he wets and paper towel and strides over. The hand on his chin isn’t harsh, but it’s not exactly gentle and Atsumu has no choice but to be still while the wet towel is swiped under his eye, coming off tan with the concealer residue. 

“Miya Atsumu. What did you do?” The sternness in Kita’s voice sent a chill down his spine, but the immediate assumption of fault made him scowl. Kita was already being mean and he didn’t even know how Atsumu had gotten the shiner. 

“Hey, that’s not fair senpai. What if I just got attacked? Ya can’t just start bein’ mean for no reason.” He pouted out, trying to pull his chin out of Kita’s grip. 

“Is that what happened?” Kita replied matter of factly. The long pause that followed was answer enough. 

“Corner, now.” 

Atsumu’s chest sunk as he slunk away, muttering about mean senpais under his breath. Apparently he wasn’t quite enough considering a hand came down as fast as lightning on his ass that sent him hustling to the corner of the kitchen. 

“In five minutes ya had better be ready to tell me the story.” Kita said as the sound of a knife thudding down on a wooden cutting board started up behind him. Atsumu rested his forehead against the wall, mentally patting himself on the back for not kicking it. This was going to be so stupid. 

It wasn’t as though five minutes was long, he had definitely stood in this very corner for three or four times that before, but perhaps the time since he had had to do it last was making it harder. The cracks in the wall were no longer interesting and his hands had become dull to look at after only a moment so he closed his eyes, hoping maybe there was something interesting going on in his brain. All he found there though were feelings of dread and regret, which was probably the whole point of standing here in the first place. 

The hand on his shoulder was gentle, but it still caused him to start a little, standing up straighter and dropping his hands back to his sides at attention, but not turning away from the corner. 

“I didn’t mean to spook you.” Kita said softly, using the hand on his shoulder to turn Atsumu away from the corner and lead him out of the kitchen. “Let’s go talk.”

The kotatsu was already set up even though it was only beginning to get truly cold in the evening, but it had always been there early and Atsumu had many fond memories of sitting at this exact one as he was bullied into homework, or as he and Osamu cleaned out the Kita’s pantry, an action that was never minded and almost encouraged by the family’s kind old matriarch.

Atsumu wanted to curl into the heat far more than he wanted to deal with the warm spark in Kita’s eyes, but he would settle for both, making himself as cozy as someone who knew there impending fate could be and wishing Kita was handing him a mikan instead of an ice pack.

“Hold that on the swelling. Ten minutes.” 

Atsumu followed the order wordlessly, waiting for Kita to break the silence. Or at least he tried to wait, but Kita was far more comfortable in silence than Atsumu would ever be and his own voice cracked through the still air before his senior had even gotten comfortable. 

“It wasn’t that bad, I promi-” 

“Ya have a habit of saying that.” Kita interrupted, letting his hands prop him up from behind. “And it’s usually not true.” 

“I mean it though! It wasn’t that bad compared to how me and ‘samu used to go at it, and I was defendin' someone.” Atsumu tried to protest, leaning forward over in earnest. 

“It might not be bad relative to the past, but I doubt it isn’t relative to how I  _ know _ you can behave. But I won’t be able to judge that until you tell me what happened.” 

It wasn’t phrased as a command, but it certainly felt like one; Atsumu straightening up in response. “Last night we- Me, Shouyo, and Bokkun I mean, went out in Doyamacho” 

The look on Kita’s face was blank, but Atsumu could still sense the disapproval already radiating off of him. He wouldn’t be in trouble for a night on the town, but Kita had hardly ever been the partying type. Gulping down the lump in his throat he went on to tell the whole story. 

“And so, I really didn’t do anything wrong!” Well, that hadn’t gone as he thought it would. Somewhere in his retelling Atsumu had lost his ability to graciously accept his fate and had instead felt the flame of indignation rise, making his face feel hot. Or was that embarrassment? “It’s not my fault Bokkun is kinda dumb, and it certainly isn’t my fault that that fuckin' prick deserved to have his teeth knocked in! Isn’t it enough that i’ve got this ugly ass shiner and my hand hurts like shit.” 

“Is yer hand okay? Do you need to ice that too?” Kita responded in a calm tone that only made Atsumu sink further into his pit of shame that disguised itself as outrage. 

“It’s fine!” He snapped out, only realizing after that it had been a big mistake as silence fell between them with a heaviness that Atsumu couldn’t carry on his tensed up shoulders. Good thing Kita was the one to carry it.    
  
He was way too angry for someone sitting under a kotatsu. They should be drinking tea and catching up, then sharing a pleasant meal like equals and friends. Instead it was just like highschool, Kita always treating him like just some kid. Deep in the back of Atsumu’s mind he realized he had never really done anything to prove Kita wrong about that. Maybe he should start now, or well, as soon as Kita stopped leveling that glare at him that made him feel all of six years old, making his chest slump involuntarily, curling in on himself and raising his gaze only high enough to look at his senpai through his eyelashes. How could Kita say so much without a word?

“If I have to remind you about yer attitude or if you swear again you will be tasting soap. Give me yer hand.” Shinsuke commanded when Atsumu seemed to have finished with his tantrum, holding out his own hand in waiting to be obeyed. The knuckles didn’t look damaged and the swelling was very minor, but it’s still seemed to him the most frustrating part of this whole affair so far. Atsumu’s hands were vital and he should be taking their care more seriously. He let go of the fingers and looked back up at his kouhai, who had worked himself up from one extreme emotion to another in a flash. 

Now his eyes looked glassy and every muscle that had been ridged with anger only moments ago was deflated. He must have foregone putting product in his hair today because the blonde fringe that was now usually styled in the gentle swoop away from his forehead was hanging softly over his face like it had back in school. It was a meaningless thing to notice it, but the change in styling did a lot to make Atsumu look more grown up and without it Kita felt like he was dealing with a much younger version of his friend. 

“Can ya stop delayin’ the inevitable. Can ya just say it.” Atsumu whispered to the floor, no longer trying to hold Shinsuke’s gaze at all. So he had grown up then. 

Reaching across the corner of the table he took the ice pack Atsumu had been dutifully holding to his cheekbone even through his tantrum and placed it on the table, using his kouhai’s unmarred cheek to tilt his head up.

“You’re getting a spanking Atsumu.” He pronounced simply, watching as Atsumu’s lip pouted out despite getting exactly what he asked for. “You were wrong in yer actions last night and I’m going to punish you because you know better.” 

Atsumu nodded sadly, a far more mature response than he ever would have gotten years ago. Shinsuke had noticed the changes in Atsumu more and more recently as the gaps in time between when they found themselves in this situation stretched. Each time Atsumu became more adult, sure he still had his habit of temper, but that was just how he was and Shinsuke doubted it would ever go away. On the whole though it was striking how much he had grown up. Shinsuke wasn’t that much older than Atsumu in years, but in maturity he had always seen him as a kid. 

It wasn’t true anymore. Now Atsumu was an adult, a wonderful young man that Shinsuke couldn’t be more proud of, but also one that he would never stop guiding and pushing to be his best. 

"The carpet beater is out on the engawa. Please bring it here." 

Atsumu couldn't repress the whine that left his throat as he stood up, leaving the warmth of the kotatsu behind him and sliding open the shoji to go find the vile tool that Kita favored. He curses his luck that he couldn't have formed a close relationship with a senpai that was normal, one that didn't own a fucking carpet beater. 

The thing mocked him as Atsumu picked it up. A single thick rattan reed bent and shaped into graceful swoops before the ends connected to create the handle, held together with thinner lashings of the same rattan material. Atsumu noticed that the arching path the stick was bent into made it look like a heart and all he was tempted to do was break the stupid thing into a billion pieces at the realization. 

But he was trying to act like an adult and adults didn't break shit. He also still had the memory of the day he chose to break a ruler Kita had requested he get and he in no way wanted to repeat that day. 

Kita had changed his position when Atsumu returned, no longer sitting under the kotatsu having pulled his cushion away slightly to create distance. Enough distancing for Atsumu’s torso he thought grimly, following the hand that beckoned him over and handing the dreaded rattan thing without a word. 

"Thank you.” Kita said simply, putting the carpet beater off to the side. “Over my lap.”

The simple statement was one hundred times worse than if he had been forced to comply and suddenly the collar of his hoodie felt too tight around his neck as he stared down at Kita’s folded legs, trying to force himself to do it. He didn’t have to though, a hand reaching forward and taking his own with a gentle touch that was so familiar. His body went to the floor easily after that, not because he was being pulled with any kind of force, but simply because Kita was guiding and where Kita guided was always the best way to go. 

His head and shoulders were resting on the thick quilted blanket of the kotatsu in the next moment, his hips over Ktia’s folded left leg and his own legs sprawled haphazardly over the tatami. He barely had time to feel his full weight relax into the floor when Kita was speaking again, the soft spoken command of “Lift yer hips.” making Atsumu bury his face in the blankets in embarrassment even as he complied. 

Sliding down the black track pants and underwear was remarkably easier now that Atsumu was considerate enough to be still. In the past he would have whined and groaned, letting his body that had always been stronger than he realized dictated his movement and it had made things much harder. Shinsuke could remember being genuinely, physically exhausted after dealing with a squirming Atsumu. He was so proud of how much he had grown, especially when it made Shinsuke’s life easier

“You know exactly why you are bein' punished.” He began, pulling his hand down out of the air to slap against the fullest part of Atsumu’s backside and breaking immediately into a steady pace. “We have talked about fighting before and while the circumstances are different, you are smart enough to know that it wasn’t acceptable in this instance either.” 

Shinsuke knew he was effective at this, knew the fastest way to get Atsumu -or any of his other precious kouhai- feeling contrite both mentally and through the warmth in his bottom while also making sure he could use his implement of choice without any fear of damage. Three consecutive swats, change position, three consecutive swats, and on and on. It worked as quickly as always Shinsuke noticed, looking over to see Atsumu gripping his fingers into the quilt, a panting breath rising from his chest in time with Shinsuke’s strike. 

“You have to learn to turn the other cheek, Atsumu. Unless you or someone else is in physical danger there is no reason to be engaging in a physical fight.” 

“Just a verbal one then, got it.” Atsumu joked, backtracking a second later when Shinsuke moved his attention lower down to his thighs, gasping out an anxious “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” 

Shinsuke wouldn’t give that a response. He didn’t need to since Atsumu knew exactly what he would have said already. He went on spanking till Atsumu’s entire bottom was an even rosey shade and he was no longer able to keep still, involuntary jolts of powerful thighs, and tensing of shoulders beginning to create ripples of squirming movement through his body as his brains reaction time tried to keep up with the speed of the spanking. 

They rested for a moment, Shinsuke taking in his kouhai’s powerful muscles fighting against themselves as he struggled to be still, struggled to be good. Atsumu had moved his hands over his head and buried his face in the quilt of the kotatsu and Shinsuke had the distinct feeling that the position wasn’t doing anything to help his shortness of breath. 

“Uncover yer head please ‘tsumu. It must be hard to breathe like that.” 

Reluctantly the blonde head lifted and Shinsuke wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see wet eyes and a pink, sniffling nose. His hand stroked through clean, soft hair as he pushed it back off Atsumu’s forehead, resting his cool left palm against a hot brow, slightly sweaty from both the exertion required to take a spanking and being trapped against the warmth of the quilt. 

“You’re doing very well.” Shinsuke reminded him, moving his hand from Atsumu’s forehead to his back and picking up the carpet beater, giving it a slight tap against his junior’s already hot skin in warning. “There are a lot of consequences that could have come from this that are far worse than a tanning ‘tsumu, I hope you realize that.” 

With that he brought the rattan beater down squarely across the center of his target, not paying much attention to the long whine that ended in a whimper. “The man could have pressed charges against you, or someone could have reported it and gotten you in legal trouble. Yer job could have found out and disciplinary measure might have been taken there. You’re a public figure, you can’t be starting brawls.” 

The teen Atsumu would have protested that since none of those things  _ had  _ happened they didn’t matter, results over reasons. But now this more grown-up twenty three year old Atsumu just nodded sharply and let out another whining noise as Shinsuke continued to wield his implement with care and a prowess. 

“You could have been hurt far worse. What would you have done if you had broken a finger and had to be benched until it healed? What if that man’s retaliation had been more damaging?” Shinsuke was feeling a little sick at the thought now and he decided that now was the time to wrap it up, now was the time to hold someone dear to him and trust that they understood their mistake. 

He landed six more of the heaviest swats, bringing forth what was now a real cry from Atsumu before placing the carpet beater to one side and drawing Atsumu’s torso up so he was properly in his lap, sharing space on the cushion which he recoiled from, pressing his face into Shinsuke’s neck as if to avoid the pain. 

“I care about you very much. I couldn’t see you hurtin' like that so stop being reckless.” Shinsuke admonished once more, using both hands to support his kouhai’s ample weight against his chest. 

The feeling of Kita’s wool sweater against his face was itchy, but Atsumu didn’t care. He pressed himself into Kita so hard it almost hurt, the bruise on his cheekbone protesting at the rough treatment, but he couldn’t let up, not wanting to risk Kita thinking that relaxing his hold meant he was no longer in need of the hug. Did that make him immature? That he needed to cling so tightly after a punishment that was really supposed to be meant for kids. Would it have been more grown-up for him to bow and say thank you, to dry his tears and move on quickly? 

The question didn’t matter since Atsumu knew he wasn’t capable of doing it anyway. Not with Kita who had been the one to hold him like this for so long. He wanted to be seen as an adult in his eyes, but not if it meant giving this up. 

He wasn’t forced to though, Kita running his hands down his back and speaking his soft reassurance that Atsumu was forgiven before drifting into a silence that he was far more able to bear. Eventually Kita leaned back, taking his hands off Atsumu to use as support behind him as he had before. Their difference in size was much more evident like this and Atsumu felt like a giant great dane attempting to be like a maltese, too big to fit, but humored by its owner to be allowed to try anyway. Kita looked as though he was about to say something, but before he could there was a distant beeping and Atsumu finally noticed the sweet smell of rice drifting towards them.

“Are you hungry?” Kita asked with a small smile that meant he already knew the answer. Atsumu couldn’t help but grin, the smile cracking through the salty tears that had stained his face. 

“Course I am, senpai.” He said while clambering to his feet, reaching out a hand for Kita to take to stand. 

The two of them made it back to the kitchen and Kita went to the rice cooker, clicking it open and beginning to turn the rice off the sides and bottom with a paddle. “There is arnica cream in the bathroom under the sink. Go use it on your hand and cheek while the rice rests, I’ll finish up everything else.” 

Atsumu made a sound in the affirmative and started down the hallway only to be called back a second later. “Oh, and Atsumu. Don’t put any on yer bum. That’s meant to keep hurting for a while.”

“Senpai, ya can’t just say stuff like that!” Atsumu spluttered, his face heating up again as he stormed away from Kita who seemed completely unaware. 

* * *

In the end they had their lunch only a little later than intended, back in the comfort of the kotetsu. The rice was so fresh and umeboshi struck such a powerful contrast against it, and sharing it here in this old home, with this old friend felt like magic to Atsumu. 

Kita and Atsumu were a bit like rice and umeboshi. One simple and ever present, a stable element of life that held subtle complexity behind a reliability. And the other sharp and bold, a salty, sour flavor that was a treat, but could be overpowering. However it paired beautifully with rice. 


End file.
